SCENE DUMP!
by Fatal Overdose
Summary: What it sounds like. It's really really bad. Rated for swearing and gore.


**ABOUT THIS::: I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'M DOING. I REPEAT, I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'M DOING. This is... sorta like the one-word prompt stuff, but... it isn't. Basically, a bunch of random, completely unrelated scenes of varying lengths. Some are funny, some angsty, some romantic, some don't even have two characters. Really, this is just a mess... I'm kinda embarrassed, actually.**

**I'm not going to use any of these.**

...  
1.  
Jack struggled against the two men holding him back. "You can't do this to him!" He shouted angrily. "Chase! CHASE!"

The woman turned away from her work, affixing him with a cold, emotionless stare that instantly put a stop to his efforts. "Balance must be maintained, Mr. Spicer," she intoned, "No matter what the cost."

...  
2. (Jack POV)  
The rain's pretty much soaked through my coat already. Seriously, I thought it was supposed to be waterproof! Well, whatever.

At least there wasn't any-

A flash of light and probably the loudest noise I'd heard in my life ended with me sitting in a puddle and watching a tree burn.

Lightning. I just couldn't catch a break today, could I?

Gah... stupid fucking helipack for breaking. Stupid fucking Xiaolin for breaking it in the first place. Stupid fucking Wu alarm for going off at four in the goddamn morning!

Why does this shit always happen to me?

Oh, right. I'm evil.

Stupid fucking Karma.

...  
3.  
Of course, everyone but Jack himself found this entire situation hilarious (Wuya had dropped by a few minutes ago just to laugh at him and inform him once again of his general uselessness), so it looked as though he would have to escape on his own.

He understood it was a bit unbelievable, him dating a dragon and all, but come on, a padded cell and a goddamn straight jacket? That was going a little overboard.

**...**  
**4.**  
Chase's predatory side had been drawn to the coppery scent of blood, as well as the inhuman shrieks of something in indescribable agony.

A body lay a mere yard away, blood slowly pooling around it and shining in the pale moonlight, filling the still night air with breathless gasps and shudders, curled around itself in a pathetic attempt to ward off the waves of pain.

"Jack..." he breathed.

**...**  
**5.**  
"I do not need protection, Spicer!" He snapped angrily, far from happy with his current situation.

The boy pointedly ignored him, continuing about his business as though he hadn't just been yelled at by a 1500 year old dragon.

**...**  
**6.**  
He was ancient, terribly so. Had it really been 4000 years since he had first drank the Lao Mang Long soup?

He was no longer able to remember his earlier life, his memories blurring and fading out. There was only one thing he'd tried to hold onto, although he didn't know why any more.

Even that was slipping away now. Only vague details remained from the dreams, black, white and red, a cocky smile, something warm and sweet and beautiful he could only see in his dreams, and upon awakening the emptiness again clawed at his chest.

Someone... someone should be there, next to him on the bed, but there never was. Sleep gave him something he couldn't name, only to rip it away cruelly in his waking hours.

**...**  
**7.**  
Chase held the thing at arm's length, unsure of what to do with it. It was slowly dripping onto his hand from the light brown shell, leaving an irritating, frigid mess in its wake.

The genius rolled his eyes. "It's just ice cream, Chase, you eat it."

The disbelieving expression on the dragon's face was enough to make Jack double over in laughter.

**...**  
**8.**  
The tremors were becoming less frequent. Red hair was soaked with red blood. Eyes were half lidded and dull, no longer responding to changes in light.

Not long now... he thought to himself. Where previously there had been pain, a cold numbness took root instead.

Jack welcomed death with open arms.

**...**  
**9.**  
He was so tired... and not just physically. Jack was emotionally exhausted.

Why, for once, couldn't he do something right? Why did he always screw everything up?

Not for the first time, he allowed his gaze to drift across the room to where a knife lay out on the counter, pristine and sharp, glinting at him invitingly.

Of course, there was an easy way to fix everything...

**...**  
**10.**  
He was alive, of course. He was Chase Young, after all. The thought of him dying was laughable.

But 'alive' was far from alright. The thing... whatever it was... had done something to him. He was trapped inside his own head to contend with the demons that dwelt there, and Jack was stuck on the outside, unable to do anything but wait.

Unless...


End file.
